


xcjnks

by Vatticancameos



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Wolfstar - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Wolfstar AU, wolf sirius
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vatticancameos/pseuds/Vatticancameos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius is on the run. Remus is a journalist, searching for a werewolf on the loose in London</p>
            </blockquote>





	xcjnks

Sirius Black pulled at the torn edges of his coat, wrapping them tightly around his torso and glancing warily at the sky and the moon that hung there. He rushed through the deserted cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley and turned onto the bustling chaos of Knockturn Alley. In the depth of night, the shady street transformed into a hub of dark and more than likely illegal activities, carried out by the worst wizards and witches you could imagine.

The fact that Sirius found himself here more often than not caused him great distress, he’d spent fourteen years trying to detach himself from the Black family dynasty and it’s unhealthy obsession with the dark arts. It seemed, however, their interest in darkness, did not extend to that of dark creatures.

-

“They’re filthy, disgusting half-breeds, the lot of them!” Walburga Black has spat across the dining table one evening, “Why on earth the Dark Lord insists on keeping _werewolves_ for company eludes me, they’re just a bunch of slathering mutts, blood as corrupted as those filthy mudbloods if you ask me” Sirius had ignored his mothers rants, biting back his remark that when it came down to it, no one really had asked her, and obediently ate his meal, hoping she would just _shut up_ or wear herself out. Orion Black had merely muttered an agreement before returning his gaze to the parchment before him, deeply engrossed in the workings of the ministry and the laws he was trying to pass, preventing those without pure blood from being taught magic.

-

Trying not to catch the eye of anyone else wondering through the street – they were obviously not up to any good, it would do no good to start a fight, not in his state, and certainly not so close to the-

“Excuse me” Sirius looked up from the floor, thankful that the voice that had spoken was not one he recognised. Before him stood a tall, slim man, mousy brown hair appearing grey in the moonlight. He tried to ignore the strong jawline and full lips, the soft waves of his hair and the brightness in his pale eyes, and answered the man with a harsh grunt in response. “It’s just, I’m looking for a shop you see, quite new to the area and I don’t really know my way around, could you point me in the right direction?” The man’s voice was deep, and he had a accent Sirius couldn’t quite place… Welsh perhaps? He toyed with the idea of helping the handsome stranger find his way, he didn’t seem like the Dark Arts type, but Sirius took a moment to glance over the man’s shoulder and realised no one looking for something in Knockturn Alley was up to any good, and whilst he seemed friendly, Sirius couldn’t get pulled in by a pretty face, not when they were frequenting one of the darkest areas of London. He sneered at the man, hoping to draw on his aristocratic upbringing and good looks to create an imposing figure, he was ultimately failing due to the worn clothes and unkempt stubble across his jaw; possibly also because the stranger seemed at least a head taller than Sirius himself.

“Piss off,” he grumbled, pushing his way past the shocked man and trying to avoid eye contact, he picked up his pace, keeping his sight set on the door up ahead that he knew belonged to his destination, and his lifeline.  

-

Exactly nine days after his fourteenth birthday, Sirius Black broke the rules. This wasn’t unusual and for the most part practically harmless, but that night as he snuck down the staircase of Grimmauld Place, what waited below was not the usual meeting of ministry officials and pureblood aristocracy, but a whole lot more sinister gathering. The sharp voice of his mother could be heard from the dining room, but after a sharp slap of skin hitting skin, Walburga Black remained silent, if not, Sirius was sure, enraged. Tonight, the Black’s dining room held host to a meeting called by the one claiming to be the Dark Lord. If his mothers shrill words were any indication, he’d bought along some of his werewolf allies to the meeting, and she was evidently not happy at having her home soiled by the likes of them. In retrospect Sirius has often wondered if he had not wandered so far down the staircase, and if he’d remembered that the eleventh step always moaned in protest when someone stepped upon it, maybe the events that followed could have been different.

-

The bell chimed as he pushed open the door and a pungent smell filled his too-sensitive nose. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting that frequented most of the shops lining this particular street and he picked his way through the disorganised chaos of the shop floor. Once he reached the dusty counter, Alastair waved him towards the curtained separation at the back wall, barely paying attention to his only customer and tinkering idly with a stout cauldron emitting purple smoke. Pushing aside the heavy curtain, he found himself in a familiar corridor, panelled in dark, heavy wood and lined with doors of a similar nature; he chose the first door to his left and entered. The low ceilinged room was lined with shelves hosting a variety of mason jars, filled with gruesome ingredients and hazy with heat and fumes radiating from the cauldron hanging inside the lit fireplace.

“Ah yes, Sirius, right on time as usual, only one dose again?” A frail man perched atop a three-legged stool sat attentively regarding the boiling cauldron; he didn’t look up from the fireplace but greeted Sirius as he often did.

“Yeah, that’s the one” his response was short and tinged with a frantic energy, being in this part of London put him on edge, and the sooner he was gone from here the calmer he would be, he couldn’t risk losing control.

“You know, Sirius” the man sad rising from his place and slowly walking to one of the many shelves, “You could always take a few batches and reorder when the time calls for it, I certainly have a few in stock, I could set you up for about three months” his long shaking fingers reached out to extract a small shimmering blue potion from amongst the bottles. With a furrowed brow he regarded the potion maker bitterly. “You know I don’t have the money to do that.” It didn’t escape Sirius when the man’s lip curled slightly in a smirk, many people relished in the fall of a Black, a reluctant one or not. “Ahh yes, very well here you go then, that’ll be 4 Galleons.” He grimaced while exchanging the dirtied pouch, heavy with the sickles he had gathered to pay for the small vial and avoided looking at the old man, turning to leave once he’d gotten what he’d come to find.

-

“Well, what’ve we got here?” A heavy, dirty hand grasped at Sirius’s shoulder, long nails crusted with dirt dug into his flesh as he struggled to move away, but the other hand came down like a vice across Sirius’ face, covering his mouth and pressing tight.

“Young master Black want’s listen in on the Dark Lord’s plans? You’ve got a nerve, everyone knows you’re on the way to becoming a blood traitor like those muggle loving Potter’s.” the voice in his ear was gravely and harsh, the laboured exhale of words pushing warm wet air across his face, it smelt like rotting meat and damp.

“Oh but you do smell nice don’t you?” He struggled angrily, aiming to step on the feet behind him or to elbow the man in the groin, all efforts were fruitless however and only seemed to further the man’s enjoyment of his power over the Black heir.

“You know, I really don’t think they’d miss you, I think I’ll be doing them a favour…They always liked the other one better, Regulus isn’t it?” he paused to laugh and moved his head closer to Sirius’ face. “I’m sure he’d happily take your place, that way everyone gets what they really want.” Sirius began to struggle more violently, a sarcastic remark ready to be thrown at the man who dared speak to him like that, but the fingers tightened and the man’s jaw stretched into a wide grin before opening.

-

As he moved to push aside the heavy curtain separating this room from the shop floor Sirius paused. Voices could be heard; one was most certainly Alastair’s and the other he recognised as the man who’d asked him for directions not moments before, his accent couldn’t be too common around these parts. Anxiety overrode sense and a whirlwind of thoughts clouded Sirius’s view. Was he being followed? There were too many options for culprits, Voldemort, the Black’s, even the Ministry… none meant anything pleasant for him in the future. He struggled to control his breathing, fingers curling into a fist and nails biting into the soft flesh of his palm. He leaned in to listen more carefully, heart beating fast.

“And you’re sure?” the stranger asked, voice carefully calculating.

“Mr Lupin, even if I were to know anything about which you ask, there’s a certain element of secrecy one must uphold.”

“Customer confidentiality?” he barked a laugh “I may be new here but I’m not naïve, this area of London is certainly not one with any type of moral compass, you’re not beneath selling your customers out I’m sure, you’re looking for the right price, aren’t you?” Sirius heard the soft jingle of coins as they were taken from the man’s pocket and placed before Alastair. The reply from the shop owner was more wistful now, a hint of regret evident in his voice.

“No. We do not give away our customers. Take your bribes and leave-“

“They’re here aren’t they?” a pause followed Lupin’s shocked words.

Alastair’s response was a soft croak, “What?”

“The only reason you would have for refusing this gold is if you could lose more by taking it… You’d certainly lose out if the werewolf you’re hiding knew who’d sold him out, and how might he know, unless he’s here.”

There was a sharp intake of breath Sirius realised had come from his own mouth, who was this man, Lupin, working for? He tried to recall what he’d looked like, only being able to bring to mind the softness of his hair and curve of his lips, he couldn’t distinguish who had sent him from that alone.

Choosing to ignore the rest of the conversation, not trusting Alastair to successfully divert Lupin’s attention, he looked to plan his escape.

Many doors left off from the panelled corridor behind the curtain, he knew some contained more brewing stations, more were store rooms lined with ingredients, others stock rooms stacked high with boxes. The last door to the right however, led to the flat above the shop where the old man lived. There.

-

He didn’t really remember any pain, not physically anyway, after being found in the hallway by one of the Dark Lord’s followers, he didn’t remember much else except fear and a scream he embarrassingly thinks might’ve belonged to him.

When he woke it was to the ceiling of the Black Family dining room. He leant up on one elbow and surveyed his surroundings. He’d been placed on one of the many sofas’ that lined the walls and his eyes found Walburga and Orion Black standing by the door. His mother looked flustered and most of all disgusted, his father looked livid.

“What have your animals _done_ to him?” Walburga wailed. “This cannot be happening, the Black family line is _pure_.” She was growing increasingly louder and more hysterical “You have _ruined_ us” she finished, raising a clawed finger at the Dark Lord.

Unanimous hissing and cursing arose from the dozen or so people Sirius hadn’t at first noticed, but his eyes were now drawn to the man standing beside him. He recognised him from numerous covers of the Daily Prophet, he was handsome and tall, cloaked in a green robe so dark it was almost black, and he was looking down, right at Sirius.

Noticing he was awake, the Dark Lord ignored Walburga’s hysterics and knelt next to the weak teenage boy.

“Sirius” his voice was quiet and compelling. “You have been gifted by one of my most trusted followers, he believed that with this gift you will be a _great_ asset in the upcoming revolution.” The Dark Lord smiled at him, but he knew it wasn’t sincere, nothing about this man was, his good looks, his charm, none of it was sincere, it was a mask he paraded to win admirers. “You will join me, won’t you Sirius. I do not believe your mother will be so accepting of your new gift, you may not have anywhere to go” he paused to look at Mrs Black and Sirius followed his gaze to his mother, and saw only the truth reflected in her face.

“But you can come with me, don’t worry, I’ll look after you, you only have to help me.” Sirius took a moment to reach for his shoulder, the source of his pain, pulling his hand away he gazed, almost numbly, at the sticky red blood coating his palm. Without looking up, and without thinking, he nodded.

-

He ran, pulling out his wand and unlocking the door to his right only a moment before he heard the whoosh of the curtain behind him being yanked back.

“STOP!” the man’s shout didn’t register with Sirius as he thundered up the staircase; he scrambled through the rooms looking for an exit. He could hear the footsteps behind him, but he was faster and better adept at escaping than his pursuer. Finding a slightly parted window on the second floor he flung it open, the force snapped the frail hinges and the glass pane fell to the street below. He could see the bustling alley below him, a sea of dark cloaks, concealing identities and illegal purchases. Not for the first time Sirius thanked the layout of Knockturn Alley and it’s narrow streets and pushed himself from the windowsill and onto the tiled roof of the building opposite. He didn’t waste any time wondering why no spells had been fired from behind him, and only proceeded to run as fast as he could, clutching at the small vial still in his hands and praying to Merlin that whoever was looking for him didn’t want to catch him too badly.

_  
  


 Remus Lupin stood breathing heavily and bathed in the moonlight from the open window. Or, he amended, the broken window. Before he could catch sight of where the man was headed he was tugged back violently by the back of his shirt collar.

“Get out of my shop.” The man behind the counter had followed him and began to push him towards the door leading downstairs; he made no attempt to argue with him. Really, he chided himself, losing his control like that and charging through someone’s house all for the sake of a news report was highly unprofessional. He began to apologise but the man only grunted, marching him through the shop and pushed him once more towards to front door, “And I’m keeping this money” he said holding up the bag of gold Remus had previously offered him “For the window upstairs.” Remus began to argue that one quick reparo would have that fixed almost instantly, but decided against it after man withdrew his wand and threatened him.

He returned to the Leaky Cauldron feeling defeated and worn out, he’d recognised the man from somewhere. Not only from the street beforehand - it _was_ just his luck to speak to the man he was looking for before he knew who he actually was - but before all of that. He’d seen that face somewhere.

He decided to resign to his room to continue his train of thought; nights when he was on the trail of a big mission were never ones that involved sleep. The cogs in his mind turned endlessly, sleep escaped him like clockwork and until his job was complete, Remus knew his mind wouldn’t shut down. Tomorrow, he thought, he’d visit an old friend living in the area and see if they’d heard anything about the werewolf roaming around London recently.

Whilst the soft light from the burning oil lamp was comforting, this generic room was no match for the comfort of his own home. Remus would give anything to be back in his own room at Godric’s Hollow, living only a few doors away from his childhood friends. Stories like this kept him away from home far too often, and despite dreaming of a job in journalism since his Hogwarts days, it so far wasn’t living up to the expectations he’d created.

With a wave of his wand, his bag, settled in the corner of the room, lifted itself off the floor and floated towards him; once stationed at his desk he opened it up and pulled out the newest edition of the Quibbler. Here was a publication he could get behind, straightforward and honest; some turned their nose up at the small publication run by Xenophilius Lovegood, but Remus loved the quirky editor and his outrageous stories. Littered between stories about magical creatures Remus had never even heard of, there were clever and well thought out debates and articles regarding the war, the state of politics in the ministry and the relationship between muggles and wizards. The Prophet had their own agenda, and often the stories he was given to work on evaded any mention of the war currently raging around them. He fought tooth and nail for weeks to take on his current story, if he had his own agenda, why was it any of their business? If it were up to the prophet his expose about the treatment of werewolves during such a dangerous time would have been passed off,   
“ _They’re no concern of ours until they begin killing people, Lupin, no one cares about their bloody treatment if they keep out of our way_.” He’d been told this by his editor countless times, until he’d finally relented about three days ago. He’d been able to take up his story, so long as on his return he run a story on the ‘morbid affair between Ministry official Arnold Yaxley and the frontman of the band The Horntails Louise Padgett’

“Everyone loves a good old fashioned affair Remus!” he was told before being sent on his way; he had one week to get the story in, or his job was on the line, this wasn’t just a deadline, it was one he’d practically begged to be given. This was something bigger than even the Prophet knew.

-

It was only two days after the incident in the dining hall, the one that had foolishly seen Sirius Black agree to join Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He’d been ordered to remain at the Black residence until further arrangements could be made, and his parent’s had been informed to treat the newest member of the revolution with respect, or face the wrath of the Dark Lord if his orders were disobeyed. His mother was eyeing him with distaste from the opposite end of the table, as far as she could possibly get away from her first child. Calling over Kreacher, her most devoted House Elf, she spoke into his paper-thin ear and Sirius watched as the Elf walked the length of the table to deliver a message from his mother.

“Mistress demands that you finish eating your dinner before you return to your room Master Black” a loud, and extremely fake cough emanated from Walburga’s direction. “ _Mutt_.” Kreacher corrected with a slight smirk.

Instead of responding to the House Elf, Sirius looked up at his mother and spoke to her directly.

“I might eat it, if I were able. I can’t eat this,” he stabbed his fork into the raw steak on his plate and held it up, watching the blood drip onto the white china. He cared very little for how much he wanted to rip into it, how the smell of blood flooded his mouth with saliva. He wasn’t giving her the satisfaction of showing off his newly acquired taste for raw meat.

“You can and you will.” She hissed at him, slapping her palm against the table, “We are not wasting anymore time or money on an animal like you, eat what you have been given or go without.” Without giving him chance to reply she waved a hand and he watched as his plate of food smashed against the wall, blood running down the floral wallpaper and china scattered around the floor.

“Go.” Were the last words Walburga Black ever spoke to Sirius Black.

-

Sirius returned to the house he shared with the unassuming and slightly dim-witted Peter Pettigrew and headed straight for a shower. The building was slowly falling apart, leaks occurred more and more often and the crumbling floorboards had taken hostage at least three shoes, all of them from his left foot. Sirius really couldn’t afford to lose anymore shoes; the life of a werewolf didn’t offer much in the way of employment, he’d once believed he’d finish Hogwarts and become and Auror for the ministry. He laughed at himself whilst stripping off his clothes and turning the faucet. He hadn’t even completed his Hogwarts education, leaving before completing his fourth year. He’d spent the last nine years teaching himself all of the necessary spells to stay alive. It’s why it was extremely possible that the Ministry of Magic were sending people after him, a history of underage magic and now a werewolf, once the Black heir sneaking about London in the middle of a war, a war in which werewolves and those with the last name Black were often found to be in league with the opposition. Standing under the stream of water Sirius hung his head letting his hair hang forward, exposing the serial number branded at the nape of his neck, and watched the droplets run down and into the water at his feet. There was no future for him. Werewolves’ rights were virtually non-existent, and at this time they were even more untrusted than ever before. His ambition for the last few months had bought him back to London, in an attempt to help bring down Voldemort and all of his followers, including his family. Nothing but this, he believed, could get him accepted back into normal wizarding society.

The small vial of smoking blue potion he’d hastily put in his bedside table would help him keep his humanity the following night, when his bones would break and crack into place, he’d be The Wolf and he’d be Sirius, and he’d continue the work he’d been doing the last few months.

-

He stared at the derelict looking building before him, wondering how Pete could be living in such a tiny, run down place. He knew his friends job at the Owl-Post Office didn’t pay well, but surely there were better places than this to spend your life. Pushing any judgement aside Remus made his way up the stone steps to the door, dirty white paint chipped and peeling, he knocked on the cleanest area available and waited.

“Remus!” Peter exclaimed when answering the door, “Why didn’t you send an owl?” he flushed at how that had sounded “I don’t mean, not to mean, I… just… come in Remus, it’s lovely to see you” He moved aside to let Remus pass and they shared a quick one armed hug in the doorway,

“Just passing through really, Pete, wanted to check in and see if you knew anything about any werewolves round these parts”

“Werewolves?” his eyes widened ever so slightly, fear entering his voice.

“Yeah, there’s been some stories about one in the area, pretty tame it’s been said, assuming they must be on wolfsbane, I wanted to interview one but he’s seeming pretty hard to get hold of,”

“Don’t blame him really, not during these times.” Pete grumbled whilst offering Remus a seat in the living room. “Coffee?”

“Tea if you don’t mind,” as Peter left through a different door Remus raised his voice to be heard “Nearly got a chance last night but I-“ he stopped mid-sentence as the door they’d just entered re-opened, and his werewolf entered.

“You.” The man growled. “What are you _doing_ here?” he shot over to where Remus was sat and pulled him up by the collar of his coat, pushing him against the nearest wall. “How did you find me, who are you working for” a wand tip was now pressed firmly against his throat, the werewolf had it’s teeth bared in a grimace and Remus struggled to gather his thoughts.

“What the hell is going on in… Sirius, what are you doing?” Remus was quickly dropped from Sirius’ grip but the wand stayed firmly to his throat.

“Hello Peter. Good morning. If you could turn around and walk away that would brilliant for everyone. Next time, don’t answer the door. Thank you.”

Remus raised his eyebrow at the man in front of him, and turned slightly towards Peter.

“Don’t worry, I can handle this, I know him” he smiled in what he hoped was a believable manner.

“Oh, brilliant, well then, I’ll be... going” without another word needed Peter apparated out of the room.

“It is honestly mental how he was sorted into Gryffindor y’know, Remus Lupin, I believe we’ve met” he extended a hand towards the man he now knew as Sirius and waited for a response.

“Who sent you?” the wand tip pressed harder.

“No one, well the Prophet I guess but it was my idea.”

He saw the shock register on his face before his eyebrows furrowed.

“And what would the Prophet want with me?”

“An expose.” His reply gained a disbelieving look from Sirius, “I wanted to write a story, about how the war was effecting werewolves during this time, I know not every werewolf has to be working for Voldemort, right? I wanted to find one that wasn’t, I wanted to interview you.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not giving you an interview. I’m not giving anything to the prophet, especially not some sad story about my life,” he glared at Remus, his face reddening “I don’t want pity, and I wouldn’t get pity, do you know what kind of attention a werewolf would get from an interview with the Daily Prophet?” Remus shook his head, although he probably could guess. “Death threats,” Sirius continued, “Death threats, and howlers and dungbombs through my letterbox, probably a few cursed letters here and there to liven things up, you can take your grand expose and shove it up a nifflers arse.”

Desperate not to lose his only chance, Remus tried again, “No, look it can be anonymous, it doesn’t need to be a sob story at all, just an honest opinion on life as a werewolf. Surely you’d like people to know that not all werewolves are working for Voldemort?”

“How do you know I don’t?” Sirius growled getting in his face. Choosing to ignore the fact the werewolf smelt of vanilla and coconut body wash Remus smiled,

“All of the werewolves working for Voldemort are known by the Order of the Phoenix. They’re not shy in letting people know who’s side they’re on, they don’t feel like they can be touched. You’ve be sulking around London for weeks, there have been no werewolf attacks or murders in that time, if you were one of his, there most certainly would have been.”

Sirius snorted and moved to sit on the pink paisley sofa, it sunk under his weight as he rested his elbows on his knees, letting his chin fall into his hands.

“You should go. You probably already know what tonight is, I’m unpredictable at best on these days. I’d like to be left alone” Sirius did not give the impression that he wanted to be alone; he looked lonely, lost and angry.

“How do you know Peter?” changing tactic Remus sat across from him and leaned in expectantly.

“I found this place and posted an ad, in the prophet actually,”

“Not really my area”

“Thought not, I was looking for someone to house share with, this place is cheap, as you could guess, but not cheap enough for a werewolf, Peter applied and here we are.”

“So what have you been doing these last few months, on full moon nights I mean? Most werewolves on wolfsbane choose to sleep it off, not venture into the city.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head, “I’m not dumb. I’m only an animal once a month; otherwise I have the general human capacity to know when I’m being played. You can pretend this is a normal conversation all you want but you’re not getting an interview.” Remus swore he continued on to mutter “ _fucking journalists_ ” under his breath, but he really couldn’t be sure.

Remus leaned towards Sirius, ignoring the smell of his body wash and ignoring that now that he’d had some time to look at Sirius he was exceptionally handsome in an aristocratic but undeniably scruffy way. “Sirius, I’m not being completely truthful with you about why I’m here.”

“Of course you’re not,” he muttered haughtily.

“I’m here to recruit you.” He felt the air still as the werewolf stopped breathing.

“For _who_?” he asked, anger evident in his voice.

“The Order.” and with that the werewolf before him blinked, wide eyed and sat up fast, almost head-butting Remus in the face, he saw his hand curl around the edge of the sofa.

“The Order of the Phoenix? That Order?” Sirius seemed slightly breathless now, eyes wide but slightly more alert.

“The very same,” he smiled warmly, trying to seem inviting.

“I have a letter, from Dumbledore himself, if you want to-“ he rummaged through his bag to find the crumbled envelope and held it out, it was instantly snatched away as the man ripped open the seal and began to read.

“Why would the Order want someone like me?”

“Because you’re not one of them, Voldemort has succeeded in winning over nearly the entirety of the werewolf population in Europe, you’ve managed to escape that, we want to know how and we want you to join us,” he paused, enjoying the look of wonder on Sirius’ face “if you want to.”

-

He left the plate smashed on the floor, and the dining room filled with people who stared at him as if he were a monster, he walked as calmly as he could to his room and began to pack a bag.

In reality escaping the Dark Lord’s clutches wasn’t as hard as it might’ve seemed. He was relatively new to power, and consistently sure of himself and his power over people. The Dark Lord had no reason to believe that the young Black boy would want to turn his back on generations of pureblood ideology, he did have reason to believe the boys newfound werewolf status would keep him shocked and vulnerable enough to leave at Grimmauld Place until arrangements with a pack could be made. The Dark Lord had ultimately been naïve and had underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Sirius Black.

Waiting until everyone, including the house elves had fallen asleep, Sirius crept from his bed and down the stairs, and this time making certain his foot bypassed the eleventh step. A heavy bag weighed him down, filled with clothes and all the money he could find strewn around his room, treading carefully he reached the intimidating door that could lead him to freedom. Slowly turning the handle he sighed in relief when no alarms sounded, it lasted only a second however, as soon as his feet passed the threshold sparks flew and a loud insistent shriek ran through the house. Immediately he was running, as fast as he could run through the streets of London, down alleyways and across children’s parks, any shortcut he took and after only a few minutes he stopped and held out his wand.

-

Sirius was still wary, but he looked at Remus Lupin and couldn’t help but smile. It might be a set up, or a hoax but right now a situation sat before him, where he could not only be accepted, but become a member of a community aimed at fighting dark wizards, and not becoming one.

After over an hour of rigorous questioning, Sirius warmed up to the idea that Remus might be telling him the truth, he may have to wait until he sees Dumbledore for himself before he starts to celebrate, but his excitement was growing.

“If you’re agreeable then we can begin to set up initial questioning and actually get you initiated” Remus told him, “the questioning will be done by Moody, one of our Auror’s, it’s procedure I’m sure you understand, people who we don’t exactly know can’t just be let in on Order knowledge.” Sirius nodded, he did understand, there was just one issue.

“It will have to wait a few days, you know…”

“Of course not, it has to be as soon as possible, there’s no time to waste” Remus was on his feet looking decidedly energetic, he faltered though, looking quickly ashamed as he added “actually I’m sorry to say this but I might still need that interview, I do still work for the Prophet that wasn’t exactly a lie and you see there is a deadline, I could possibly get fired which would be a nightmare I…”

“Remus you do realise the full moon is going to rise in under two hours, don’t you? You need to spend a lot less time talking and a lot more time getting away from here.” He stood up too; remembering that if he didn’t take his vial of wolfsbane potion soon its effects may not take hold by the time his transformation occurred. He hurried upstairs leaving Lupin in his sitting room and rummaged in the draw for the bottle.

_No._

His searching became more frantic for every second he failed to find the vial of potion; he turned his room upside down and checked relentlessly throughout the bathroom. “Lupin,” he called helplessly, “we have a problem.”

-

As the Knight Bus pulled up in front of the scrawny, scared looking teenager he hurriedly put two Galleons in the conductors hands and asked for the first place that came to mind “ _you’re on the way to becoming a blood traitor like those muggle loving Potter’s”_

“The Potter residence.”

“Right you are sir, take a bed wherever you please.” Sirius curled up on one of the four poster beds that slid across the Knight Bus floor and worried at his lower lip, he wasn’t sure how welcoming the Potter’s were going to be, he knew they were distantly related, and he knew there was a boy his age, James, at school. But he was in Gryffindor and Sirius had been sorted into Slytherin. That had taken some convincing with the Sorting Hat, apparently he had also been suited to Gryffindor, but fear of retribution from his family had been a compelling factor towards his choice of Slytherin. He wondered now whether he would’ve been friends with James had he followed the Hat’s advice…  

“The Potter’s at Godric’s Hollow, Sir, this is your stop.” The conductor waved Sirius off and he tightening his fist, he jumped from the Knight Bus steps and marched towards the darkness of the Potter Residence.

“Sirius Black?” the confused response of Fleamont Potter as he answered the door was almost comical. Dressed in a fluffy red and gold dressing gown, with animated lion slippers this man seemed the epitome of Gryffindor pride.

“Hello, Mr Potter, I’m sorry to bother you, I needed somewhere to go just for the night and I could only think of you, and I-“

“Why on earth would you think of me?” the older man seemed perplexed and amused at this statement, but quickly ushered in the younger boy and offered him a seat at the dining table. “Do continue Sirius,”

He retold his story to Mr Potter, and a knowing look came into his eye as Sirius recounted the words hissed at him by the man who bit him, he watched Fleamont flinch as he talked of the words his mother had thrown about so carelessly to her child and he began to believe that Mr Potter might actually consider letting him stay there for the time being. That hope was very soon extinguished when Mr Potter, smiling sadly, stood from his position across from Sirius.

“I’m sorry Sirius, for what has happened to you and how you have been treated, but I do not know you and I do have my own family to think about above all else, I will call Dumbledore in the morning and have him find a home that may take you in, for tonight you may take the couch.”

Sirius tried not to look too crushed and to appear more understanding of his decision, he decided even before he agreed to stay, that as soon as morning arrived he would leave the Potter’s and begin to fend for himself.

-

“James.” Sirius ran his hands through his hair, nails scraping across his scalp in frustration. “James, listen I need your help. I’m here, with the werewolf I’m trying to recruit, he had a vial of wolfsbane but he seems to have lost-“ Sirius’ lip raised in a snarl “okay, well something has happened to it, stolen perhaps I don’t know but the full moon is under an hour and he has nowhere to transform without the aid of the potion,” he paused listening to James speak, “He needs to borrow your basement,” pausing, nodding, Sirius wanted to punch something, just hurry up, “Yes, of course, you can go to mine, we’ll be there in a second.” Remus hung up the phone and looked across at him warily.

“James Potter has agreed to let us use his basement for your transformation, it’s sturdy and should hold you with a few charms cast on it, we need to leave now.”

Sirius was beginning to feel weak, like his bones were aching for the change and he only nodded before taking Remus’ hand in order to be apparated alongside him. He found it far less easy to ignore how handsome the man was with wolf instincts raging and their hands intertwined, but he managed, grimacing as his already queasy stomach was wrenched inwards in apparition.

-

Sirius’ hands burnt his skin with their heat; the moon was already beginning to affect him, more so than usual due to his lack of wolfsbane. Remus slid an arm around the man’s waist and led him up the path to the Potter residence.

“James we’re here, take Lily and go to mine, I’ll stay here for tonight, make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble,”

Remus could tell that Sirius was hardly paying attention to their surroundings anymore, pains taking hold of his body and sending him into jolting spasms, as James passed he patted Remus on the should, “Good work, mate” before he looked across at who Remus was holding and his jaw became slack.

“Sirius Black?” Sirius’ head shot up suddenly,

“Don’t call me that,” he growled, obviously trying to sound intimidating, it failed when he swayed weakly against Remus. “You tell him, Remus, that that’s not my name anymore” Sirius turned away from them both to clutch at the wall, breathing heavily, getting himself under control he turned to Remus and gasped “take me downstairs, now.” Without either of them looking at the shocked face of James Potter, Remus rushed Sirius into the basement and locked him in. James was by his side as he cast the defensive, and protective charms around the door. James nudged him aside and pulled out a key.

“We’d better actually lock it” he smirked and led Remus upstairs; as they reached the top a howl tore through the house and Remus turned quickly to help, mostly out of reflex. “There’s nothing you can do for him,” James said, sadly, “just let it run its course.”

“I know” he replied warily, taking a seat in James’s kitchen “it’s hard not to want to help though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I can stay with you tonight, if you want, I just needed Lily out of here, not that I have anything against werewolves, it’s just-“

“I know, James, your family comes first, that’s entirely reasonable. How is she?” He smiled as James became animated talking about his pregnant wife, after a while they fell into silence and James stood beginning to make them tea.

“He was in our year you know, at Hogwarts.” Remus frowned,

“Really? I never noticed him” he definitely would have.

“He was a Slytherin, kept to himself actually, don’t think he liked it there, but we’re distantly related.” It surprised Remus that he hadn’t considered this beforehand, “Why didn’t he continue at Hogwarts then?” he asked him and James shrugged, in response.

“I don’t really know, a big fall out with his family I think, he was the Black Family heir, though I don’t think that’s the case anymore.”

“And we’re trying to recruit him? Half of the Death Eaters are either a Black or related to one”

“I’m related to them, Remus, they have a few good apples, however rare they are”

-

Sirius woke to some of the most excruciating pain he’d felt in years, looking down at his arms he noticed fresh claw marks and could feel the sting of bite marks hidden by bandages. No broken bones though, not anymore, he could feel the ache of where his collarbone had been set back into place. Remus Lupin sat beside his bed and Sirius watched him closely, instead of moonlight, sunlight now shone on his hair, turning it gold, and Sirius noticed freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose; his skin seemed almost translucent, blue-green veins crossing beneath it. This was the man who had chased him down then turned up at his door. The man who had offered him something he’d always dreamed of having. Having Remus following him had turned out quite well for him, so far at least. If this all turned out to be a horrible joke, at least he’d gotten to look at a pretty face for a while.

“You’re awake” the book Remus had been reading was put aside in favour of leaning towards Sirius, “Seems like you had a rough night,”

“I’ve had worse, when I was younger it was harder to control.”

“That must’ve been tough for you, I can’t even imagine it. James said that you were in our year at school, I didn’t believe him, I thought I’d recognise you” he reddened slightly “But you were Slytherin, right?” Sirius laughed.

“Don’t even remind me, I had a choice actually, I chose Slytherin because it’s what my family would’ve wanted. A fat lot of good that ever did me.” He grimaced as he tried to sit up, but Remus pushed him down gently,

“Stay, you need to rest. Dumbledore will be here in the afternoon, with Moody. I know it seems too soon after the full moon, but you’re amongst order members now, as soon as we get you initiated the better.”

“What do you think happened to my wolfsbane?”

“I don’t know, who would know you had it?” That was actually a very good question, because as far as he knew, no one but those at the apothecary and Remus knew he took wolfsbane potion.

“You, and those that brew it for me, no one else, as far as I know”

“We’ll look into it, I promise,” Remus put a hand over Sirius’ and gave him a crooked grin, I need to go help James with a few things around the house, but I’ll be back before Dumbledore arrives, okay? Try to rest” Remus stood and left the room, leaving Sirius to worry about whether he was going to actually be worthy or truthful enough to gain entry into the Order.

-

 

 

 


End file.
